A market for Mumbai’s memorabilia

I’m not suggesting that we turn every corner into a shrine (though the rate at which heritage buildings are sprouting in the city the danger seems imminent). What I am suggesting is that we borrow some of that cleverness from across the world and use it to our benefit. Take the case of the railways, for instance. The terrible recent cases of assault and stone throwing notwithstanding, it is a miracle considering all the obstacles, poor resources and the breakdown of services all around, that they still manage to transport millions of commuters every day in and out of the city on time. Apart from being quick, cheap and efficient they are a common rite shared by student-businessman-machchiwalli-working woman-beggar and almost every other variety of Mumbaikar. A rite with its own peculiarities – the Wheelers’ bookstalls, the vada-pav kiosks, the Neera signs written in chalk on the ground, its own romance – the quaint names of stations along the harbour line, the little bits of railway architectureand myriad customs that every regular picks up. Bhajans, friendships, shopping, card playing – entire lives are lived on the trains. Dirty? Crowded? Dangerous? So is the New York Subway. And yet, they’re buying bits of it to take home. Why? Because they recognise the role it plays in their lives.

There are so many other city institutions, less pervasive perhaps, but significant. The important buildings, for instance. I don’t mean in terms of architecture but activity – the stock exchange building, the Air-India building, the General Post Office, the RBI building. There are the tourist attractions and the landmarks, the old cinema houses for instance, the hotels, Elephanta, Marine Drive, the maidans, Chor Bazar, the Prince of Wales Museum, the CEAT building, the Haji Ali dargah etc. etc. For some of these souvenirs exist – usually in the form of tacky postcards you’d be ashamed to put your name on. But does it have to be that way in a city bursting with advertising and design talent? Now if only some of this talent could be used to translate the romance of the city into tangible saleable items. If we could get the kid next door to discard that knock off Heineken tee shirt and wear one advertising the Virar Fast instead, perhaps we can have a greater sense of belonging. Not to mention the moolah thatcould be raised for the things that urgently need to be done.